


When Draco Met Hermione (Again)

by DramioneConvert



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 04:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10734189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramioneConvert/pseuds/DramioneConvert
Summary: Hermione thought life as she knew it was over when Draco Malfoy was assigned to be her new Auror partner. But he really seems to have changed. And okay, she really enjoys the way he challenges her. But could he ever see her as more than the Brightest Witch of Her Age?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HermioneJeanWayne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneJeanWayne/gifts).



> Aaagh! This is my first fan fic. I hope you enjoy, and I look forward to your feedback!
> 
> A million thank yous to my brilliant beta - HermioneJeanWayne. I can't imagine life without you, and this is certainly no different. Thanks for sharing it with me!

*~Chapter 1~*

“Malfoy?!” 

Hermione Granger’s voice sounded even screechier than normal. But she felt it was warranted given the gravity of the situation that was unceremoniously thrown into her lap. She and her best friend, Harry Potter, had been Auror partners since they completed their NEWTs two years ago. She knew it wouldn’t last forever because Harry was destined (in the truest sense of the word) to rise the ranks to Head Auror soon, but she didn’t expect it to happen this quickly. That had been a surprise when Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt himself had come into their shared office a few weeks ago to announce that the current Head would be retiring, and Kingsley felt Harry was ready to assume the role. 

He was the savior of the wizarding world, after all. A title Harry would have preferred not to have but was greatly deserving of, nonetheless. No one doubted his abilities, or Hermione’s for that matter, and their track record in the department only further supported their childhood acumen. They were a great team, two equally powerful parts of the Golden Trio, and Hermione could admit she was a little sad for their working relationship to change. She and Harry were used to taking on the world together, fighting evil forces back to back. Of course, she was thrilled for her friend. She was as proud of him as she could be, just like the sister she was to him in all ways but blood, although they had certainly shed enough of it together. 

She wasn’t worried about him now being above her, she was more worried about upsetting the status quo, the comfort of working with someone she knew so intricately and trusted so implicitly. 

But Hermione Granger wasn’t one to take her fate lying down. Truth be told, she was actually tired of fighting. Ron Weasley, the third pillar of the Golden Trio, had realized this a lot earlier than she had, and after completing his NEWTs (only because of Hermione’s incessant pestering) had decided to use his talents to go into business with his brother, George. Hermione, several times over the last few years, had admired Ron’s quiet lifestyle, as if any life with one of the Weasley twins could ever really be quiet. 

But when Harry was promoted, she realized she wanted a change, too. She marched straight into the current Head Auror’s office the next day and informed him that her days in the field were through. She wanted to return to her first passion – research – and since she was Hermione Frickin’ Granger, all her boss could say was okay. 

If she had been really thinking clearly, she should have foreseen what this decision would mean. At the time, she was just lost in blissful thoughts of hours spent in the dusty tomes of the archives learning new spells and counter curses and developing new strategies for her Auror department mates. 

She’d barely had time to register her excitement at her new opportunity before being slammed with the next piece of information – her childhood nemesis and constant opposition, Draco Malfoy, would now be her partner. Seeing as how he was the only other Auror solely dedicated to research, she didn’t know how she didn’t see that coming, but it was too much. She had to get out of the office and clear her mind. Without another word, she turned on her heel and briskly found the nearest Apparition point out of the Ministry. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione found herself later that afternoon sipping her caramel latte and wandering aimlessly through the large park near her flat in Muggle London. She reminisced on her time in the Magical world, her relationships with Harry and with Malfoy and how they couldn’t be more different. 

In the years since the Battle of Hogwarts, a lot had changed in the wizarding world and amongst the people who fought in the war. Though Malfoy had tormented her and her friends all through their school years and committed horrible acts in the name of his Dark Lord, Hermione knew Malfoy wasn’t that person anymore. He had started to change even before Voldemort was defeated. He deliberately failed to identify them when they were kidnapped and brought to his house to be tortured. Risking such a move in the face of Voldemort’s second in command, Bellatrix Lestrange, Malfoy’s own aunt, was taking his life in his own hands at best. That was the moment Hermione started to really look at Malfoy, really study him and consider what was going on behind those cool gray eyes and platinum blonde hair. 

Of course, after that, he had stood there like a stone while Bellatrix tortured Hermione within an inch of her life. She supposed she really couldn’t blame him for that, but the memory was simply another in a long line of unhappy moments where Draco Malfoy was concerned. 

Malfoy’s mother, Narcissa, went on to help save Harry’s life and provided the edge he needed to finally vanquish Voldemort and stop the horrible war their world had been embroiled in for years. Harry and Hermione couldn’t let these valiant, if uncharacteristic, events go unnoticed and both felt compelled to testify on the two Malfoys’ behalf at their subsequent trials. Ron couldn’t bring himself to participate in this endeavor. For all his good traits – a fiercely loyal friend, a brilliant strategist, that unmistakable Gryffindor courage – his red-headed temper won out, and he refused to testify on Malfoy’s behalf. Harry and Hermione didn’t fault him for this. They, better than anyone, understood his hesitation. Years of bullying at the hands of Malfoy and his cronies was a force to be reckoned with. 

Malfoy’s father, Lucius, was another matter entirely. There was no love lost between him and any member of the Order of the Phoenix, the light that fought the dark, and Lucius was quickly condemned for his many crimes and suffered the Dementor’s Kiss. Malfoy had always idolized his father, willingly accepted and repeated all his vitriol throughout his childhood, but even he couldn’t ignore the horrors of the war in favor of his father’s pureblood ideals. What would have been their last year at Hogwarts, while Harry, Hermione, and Ron were searching for Horcruxes, Draco had a front row seat to what that monster was truly about, and his resolve to follow the Death Eaters had obviously started to wane. Lucius would always be his father, but he could never follow him blindly again. The outcome of the war had shown that he and his mother were reformed, but Lucius was not. Draco and Narcissa were still heartbroken at the loss of Lucius, but they were obviously working to right the wrongs of their family in the aftermath. Hermione respected them for that. 

She could admit to herself, if no one else, that she’d given a lot of thought to Malfoy since the war. Truth be told, her harrowing experience at Malfoy Manor wasn’t the first time Malfoy’s actions had confused her, and she really had a lot of questions that would have to be answered before they could develop a good working relationship. She was just working out what that might mean when she felt a presence behind her. 

“Hermione?” She was broken from her internal reverie by the sight of Harry somewhat tentatively coming down the path toward her. He knew her well enough to know she needed some time to think so he gave her that, but now, was the time to talk it out and move on. 

“I know. We’ll still work together. Malfoy has changed since we were kids. I’ll be okay. I was just shocked.” She admitted. “Of course, I’m still thrilled for you. This will be great for you… and your growing family.” She gave him a knowing smile. He and Ginny Weasley had married a year ago and had quite recently confided only in her and Ron as of yet that they were expecting. 

“You will be okay,” he agreed. “Malfoy’s still an arrogant arse, but he’s not the horrible git he once was. I wouldn’t let him work with you if that was the case.” His green eyes were fierce, and she knew he meant it. He would protect her always, as she would him. “And…thanks. You’re right. The promotion will be good for us. Especially, now.” They grinned at each other. 

“Now, let’s go break the news to Ron. I bet his face will be even redder than his hair!” They laughed as he grabbed her hand, and they apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	2. Chapter 2

*~Chapter 2~*

“Malfoy?!”

Ron’s eyes bulged out, and the redness of his face was quickly taking over that of his freckles. Harry’s premonition of his reaction was proving to be quite accurate.

“Harry – you’re the Head of the department now! Give Hermione another partner!”

Hermione had to admit she’d never thought of that… Why hadn’t she thought of that?

She also had to admit it was much more entertaining to sit on this side of the discussion and watch Harry flounder a little under Ron’s rage than to accept the news of her predicament herself.

“Technically, I’m not the Head yet, and I can’t make my first official duty to repeal the last edict of the previous Head! Besides, I think they’ll actually be good partners.”

Ron snorted. Hermione eyed Harry suspiciously, and he reddened slightly but plunged on.

“I’ve worked with Malfoy some over the last year, and I swear to you he’s changed. You know, he’s always been smart and a talented wizard! He’s actually done really well for the department so far.”

At this, Ron’s face finally matched his hair. “Bloody Hell!” he exploded and threw his hands in the air.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile fondly at Ron. She knew he was the same fierce protector of her that Harry was. He also had one added emotion that Harry didn’t share – jealousy. After the war, she and Ron had tried to make a go of a romantic relationship. It didn’t last long as they quickly realized theirs was meant to be a friendship, but he never lost the jealous aspect of his nature when other wizards were involved (not that Hermione had really had time for many romantic pursuits in the last few years).

Ron and Harry soon devolved into Quidditch talk, and Hermione finally accepted her fate. Draco Malfoy would be her partner, at least for the near future, and she would buck up her own Gryffindor courage, square her shoulders, and barrel forward.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following Monday was the day that she and Malfoy were to start working together as partners. She had dutifully helped Harry clean out his desk the Friday before and had taken the weekend to reflect, pamper herself, read her favorite parts of her favorite books, and mentally gird her loins for whatever being cooped up in a small office with Draco Malfoy had in store for her.

She came into the office early hoping to have a few minutes to collect herself, but she was startled to find not only Malfoy seated at his desk diligently working, but his entire side of the office already set up. The wall behind him was dedicated to a very large and very neatly organized bookshelf. She made a mental note to inspect his book collection as soon as he went to the loo…

“Morning, Granger,” Malfoy drawled without looking up. “Something I can do for you?”

Do for you?! Hermione thought. This is MY office! Before she had a chance to retort, he finally looked up. He held his characteristic smirk, but it was different somehow… slightly softer. There wasn’t any animosity behind it. She was so surprised by the subtle difference, she mumbled intelligently, “Umm…what?”

His smirk grew a little, and now there was definitely humor as well. “You’re standing there staring at me. Is there something I can do for you?”

Merlin, she _was_ staring! She was standing there staring like a complete idiot. She quickly squeaked something about “welcome to the office” and turned to hide her embarrassment. Unfortunately, when she got to her own desk, she was besieged by the same dumbfounded stillness.

There, on her desk, was a to-go cup of coffee from her favorite shop. It said caramel latte on the side, her favorite indulgent drink. Again, she stared at Malfoy with her mouth agape. “What’s this?”

Malfoy’s ears looked a little pink, but he quietly said, “A peace offering… Haven’t I seen you drinking that before?” He was trying to remain nonchalant, but there was a slight nervousness about him that she began to notice… probably from all the staring.

Hermione cocked her head to the side, analyzing Malfoy and his motives. He’d noticed her drink of choice? She knew they had obviously seen each other around the office for the past year, after he completed his mandated house arrest, but she never imagined he could be paying that much attention to her though… Why would he? He’d always hated her. Their few interactions at the Ministry had been polite but certainly not warm or friendly.

Suddenly, he looked down again. “Forget it,” he said coldly. This shook her out of her trance.

“No!” she burst forth. He looked up, startled. “I mean, yes! Yes, it’s my favorite. Thanks for getting it for me.” She sat down, and they both went to work, feverishly trying to look busy and not get caught glancing in the other’s direction.

The whole day passed awkwardly in that fashion until Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. She had to do something to start their professional relationship off right. She made a big show of packing up all her things slowly so as not to surprise him with her exit. She stopped at his desk, “Malfoy?”

He tentatively looked up, “Yes, Granger?”

She took a deep breath, and said what she wanted to say before she lost her nerve. It all ran together as one big word. “Wouldyouliketomeetatthecoffeeshopforteatonight?”

Malfoy looked confused. He furrowed his brows and said, “Sorry?”

She cursed herself for her inability to speak a simple sentence, thereby having to say it twice, and took another calming breath, speaking much slower, “Would you like to meet at the coffee shop for tea tonight? Maybe around 8? I’d like to talk to you…about this.” She gestured to their shared office.

He nodded dumbly, looking somewhere between concerned and panicked, and she took that opportunity to mumble, “See you then!” before running like a coward out the door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione could hardly sit still much less eat before her tea with Malfoy. So after sitting in awkward silence with him for 10 minutes gulping her tea down for something to do, she was a jittery mess. Her heart was racing, her palms were sweating, and her hair was even wilder than normal. Malfoy looked just as nervous as she did. Of course, he weathered it much better. His hair was perfect as always, but there was the slightest redness to his ears, and his long, thin fingers fidgeted with his napkin.

Finally, Hermione found herself, slammed her tea cup down, and burst out, “Malfoy, I have some questions that I MUST have answered before we can work together!”

Several patrons startled and stared.

“Bloody Hell, Granger,” Malfoy chuckled, “Think you could lower your voice a little for this inquisition?”

“I…I’m sorry…” she stuttered. “Obviously, we have a long history together. I’m sure you’ll understand when I say I have concerns about how we’ll work together. I think it’d be good to have what the Americans call the DTR – define the relationship – a talk to get everything out in the open and make sure we’re on the same page.” She paused to take a breath and found Malfoy looking at her quizzically. She felt sudden embarrassment and the need to clarify, “Of course, I mean our professional relationship.”

“Of course,” Malfoy said, and to his credit, his usual smirk was gone. “Where would you like to begin?”

“Well,” Hermione began, not really knowing where to start. It’s not like she had any easy questions to lead with so she just jumped right in. “I know exactly how you felt about people of my parentage before the war. If your views have not changed, then there’s no way you can respect me and no way I can work with you. If that’s the case, we should just stop here.”

“Of course my views have changed!” Malfoy blurted, looking a little annoyed. “Have I said an unkind word to you since I started at the Ministry?” Hermione shook her head slowly, “No, but…”

“Exactly!” he cut in. “I would have thought my actions would have shown you I have changed my mindset, but…” he sighed and shook his head, “I do understand and appreciate your passion for words so I’ll spell it out.” He took a deep breath and pushed the words out like she had this afternoon, “There’s no way I could have been through all that time with you at Hogwarts and not seen my previous information was woefully incorrect. You are no doubt the Brightest Witch of Your Age, even if most of the rest of what’s printed in the Prophet is rubbish,” he chuckled darkly. “Of course, I did realize the error of my ways after it was too late to have many options. My father’s actions invited a mad man into our home, and I was forced to watch first hand and sometimes participate in the horrors Voldemort so enjoyed. The horrible job I was tasked with was really a ploy to punish my family afterall, and if I hadn’t tried to fulfill it, he would have killed all of us for sure. I’ve gone over and over it a million times looking for a way out. I almost went mad with it while serving my house arrest in my childhood home, another thing ripped from me by him. But it won’t do to dwell on the past… I have to move on to survive, and we Slytherins are nothing if not survivors, right?” the characteristic Malfoy smirk returned.

Hermione just stared at him with her head quirked to the side. Suddenly she blurted the questions she’d been suppressing for years. “Why did you warn me about the Death Eaters after the World Cup? Why did Harry find you in the bathroom crying sixth year? Why didn’t you identify us that day at the Manor?” She was a little breathless when she finally stopped.

Malfoy looked to be carved of stone. His eyes were bewildered, but she couldn’t quite read his expression. The muscle in his jaw twitched several times before he quietly answered, “Obviously, there were some cracks in my careful façade…As much as I really did hate you and your friends, it was mostly jealousy. I couldn’t believe that you easily bested me in every subject, except maybe Potions,” he said, the smirk returning. “I couldn’t believe Potter blew me away at Quidditch. Your lot was receiving all the glory, and as an arrogant, petulant child who expected Hogwarts to be my playground, I was sorely disappointed things didn’t turn out exactly as I expected or…how my parents expected.” He paused and looked her straight in the eyes for a minute before continuing, “But I really didn’t want harm to come to you. Especially you. Potter and the Weasel were a different story, but the thought of the Death Eaters capturing you at the World Cup terrified me. Ironically, my worst fears came true that day you were brought to the Manor. I’m so sorry I didn’t do anything to help you. I’m sorry you ever had to endure that, and I am haunted by your screams to this day.” He looked so pained that she almost reached out to him. Thankfully, he said before she could go down that road any further – “As for crying in the bathroom, I was tasked with killing Albus Dumbledore. I was stamped with this against my will!” He ripped his sleeve back to reveal the Dark Mark, and he sneered at it in disgust. “I was a stupid kid trying to play a man’s game. And now,” at this, he puffed himself up to his full height, “I’ll spend the rest of my life atoning for my sins.”

Hermione was a little taken aback to say the least. Her mouth was hanging open if she was being completely honest. She’d never heard Draco Malfoy say that many words in the entire 10 years she’d known him, and she never expected him to drop the snark and the emotionless mask in one night. And okay, she had to admit, she felt a little sorry for him.

“You were certainly traveling down a path with limited options,” she finally said. “I’m glad to hear you found a way out. Thank you for your candor.”

Malfoy looked like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He asked her what kinds of cases she had been working on, and she launched into a detailed discussion of her most interesting quandaries. The conversation flowed easily for hours until she realized they were the only people left in the shop. Abruptly, she glanced at her watch, and said she really needed to get home. They both rose awkwardly. Hermione blushed, “Goodnight,” she mumbled. Malfoy bowed his head at her, and she hurried out.

She couldn’t keep a smile from her face. Not only had her new partner put away his bigoted notions, but he was fun to talk to and just as passionate about his research as she was. The conversation had been very stimulating and impassioned, and she realized she hadn’t been intellectually challenged like that in a long time. She was actually looking forward to what their partnership could hold. And some tiny part of her had to acknowledge how attractive he’d become. He’d never been ugly, but his personality did an excellent job of altering his otherwise handsome features in the past. And he had certainly grown into his looks in the last few years. It’s amazing what relieving yourself of all that hate can do for you.

The next morning, Hermione was determined to beat Malfoy to their shared office. She had only just put his surprise on his desk and sat down at her own when he came in. Like she had done the day before, he stopped and gaped at the cinnamon apple scone seated there.

He turned slowly, and asked, “Granger, what is that?”

Hermione gave him a small smile “Peace offering,” she said. “I seem to remember you like apples.”

Malfoy gaped at her a few more seconds, and then his features recomposed into his smirk. “Watch out, Granger. People will start to talk.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and sat down.

Yes, Hermione thought, this is going to work out much better than I thought.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	3. Chapter 3

*~Chapter 3~*

“Gurdy root?!” Hermione had noticed her voice really did rise a few octaves when she got overly excited. “That’s absurd!” she snapped. “There’s no way that would make the potion more stable.” They had discovered an old recipe for a potion they thought would be useful for their current case, but the finished product didn’t have much of a shelf life. The needed it to last for more than 5 minutes before literally poofing into a tiny mushroom cloud in front of their faces.

“Maybe not in its raw form…” Draco drawled, obviously exasperated with her. “But if we were to mince it and boil it down to a paste, I think its more subtle properties would be exactly what we need.”

Hermione scrunched up her brows in indignant frustration for a few more seconds before realizing he might have a point. She’d never thought of using it that way, but she couldn’t admit defeat that easily. She raised her chin and replied coolly, “We’ll see I guess.”

He smirked at her, “Yes, you will.” And he went back to work over his cauldron with his ingredients.

She took the opportunity to study his profile for a few seconds. Draco and Hermione had been partners for 6 months. She could honestly say they were friends now. She even thought of him as Draco in her head, but she was careful never to call him that. She didn’t know how he’d feel about it – plus, calling each other by their last names in a terse way seemed to be a small game between them.

To everyone’s surprise but Harry’s, the partnership had gone quite well. They really did make a great research team. Having someone of equal intellect and passion to bounce ideas off of (or bicker about if you listened to the Head Auror) really furthered their work.

As for their personal interactions, Hermione was pleasantly surprised to find that not only had Draco put away his pureblood superiority complex, he was actually interested in learning about Muggles and the differences in their culture. Recently, they had even instituted a Muggle movie night with several of their friends – Harry and Ginny of course, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, and even Ron (who still was openly distrustful of “that ferret, Malfoy”). She and Harry alternated picking the movies, and Draco had brought along people like Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, and even Pansy Parkinson. All in all the mixture of the former rival school houses had gone well. Everyone seemed to be greatly changed by the war, albeit in different ways, and they were all obviously looking for their way in the new world.

After a few weeks of the friendly get-togethers, Hermione noticed Draco always brought something from a restaurant rather than something homemade for his contribution. She suspected that Draco, who grew up with an army of house elves ready to cater to his every whim, probably had no idea how to operate in a kitchen so she tried to bring it up to him one day at work in a nonchalant way…but tactful conversation was never really Hermione’s forte.

“What are you planning to bring to movie night tomorrow?” she asked, trying to sound conversational.

“I was planning to bring those little cakes from the bakery by my flat that everyone raved about last time,” he said without looking up from his parchment.

“Have you ever thought about cooking something yourself?” She tried to make the question sound like an idle pondering that only just occurred to her.

He looked up slowly, his brows furrowed. “Merlin, no. Why would I do that?”

She stifled a giggle at the terrified expression he made as he contemplated that idea. “I was planning to make a dessert, too. Would you like to come over tonight and help me prepare it?”

He stared at her for a minute before realization seemed to dawn on his face. “Granger…” he smirked as he drew out her surname, “is this another one of your pureblood rehabilitation schemes?” In their tenure together, after she realized he was open to the idea of expanding his horizons, she had attempted to take on the role of tour guide. Here and there, she introduced him to various Muggle tools, ideas, and books. So far, he had taken it well, pretending to begrudge being her pet project while secretly enjoying learning new things. She was sure of it.

She held her nose in the air, looking down at him. “Cooking is really no different than brewing potions, but if you’re not up for the challenge…”

“Oh no,” he said, maybe a little too quickly. “If you can do it, I’m sure I can learn.”

After work, he came to her flat, looking a little apprehensive. She already had all the ingredients laid out, and he seemed intimidated by the sheer number of them. “We’re going to start with something simple – strawberry shortcake. First, we’ll make the basic pound cake because it needs to cool completely. While it’s cooking, we’ll cut up the strawberries, put sugar on them, and make the whipped cream,” she explained. Draco turned out to be a very good pupil. He listened well, followed directions, and asked the right questions. They mostly worked in silence, each one concentrating on their tasks.

The next night, Draco arrived a few minutes before everyone else to help her set the food out. He was clearly nervous to see how their creation was accepted by the group, but it was all for naught. The cakes were a hit, and Draco was hooked. There began a new relationship for the former enemies - Chef and Sous Chef.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few months later, and Draco and Hermione’s cooking exploits had significantly increased in caliber. The rest of their friend group looked forward to their weekly movie night more for the culinary creations than the films. True to their character, Draco and Hermione were continually challenging each other to try new, more complicated recipes, spurring each other on through witty banter, passionate debates, and careful research – just like they did in their professional capacity. Just when they had reached a comfortable routine, fate decided to intervene and turn the tables on Hermione once again.

She and Draco had planned to make an entrée this time – Shepherd’s pie. It’s a good thing they had, too, because during the course of the day of the get-together, everyone had cancelled for one reason or another except for Harry and Ginny. Their shared office looked like an owl parade with all the correspondence they were receiving.

After work, they went to Hermione’s flat like normal and dove into creating their masterpiece. When she heard the floo chime, she assumed it was the arrival of their guests, but upon hearing no one enter, Hermione went to the living room to investigate. She only saw Harry’s head floating in the green flames, looking more than a bit flustered.

All of a sudden, she was in a panic, “Harry! Is everything alright? Has Ginny gone into labor?!”

“No,” Harry said, and Hermione relaxed a fraction. Harry glanced around nervously before blurting, exasperatedly, “I wish she would though! She’s driving me crazy!” Hermione heard Ginny yell from the background, “I heard that, _honey_!” Hermione stifled a giggle. Harry rolled his eyes. “She says she just can’t waddle – I mean – walk around anymore. I’m sorry. We meant for this to be our last movie night before the baby came, but I found her plopped on the couch when I got home. She says she’s not moving again until her water breaks. Pregnancy hormones are crazy,” he said that last part in an urgent whisper. “ _Honey_!” Ginny all but screamed from the background. “Oi! I gotta go! Sorry again,” Harry gave a final grimace, and he was gone.

Hermione sat there smiling at the fire for a minute before she went to tell Draco it would just be them for the night. Things went perfectly normal as they filled their plates and sat down on the couch, but when the lights were turned down, and the movie started, everything changed.

Hermione was suddenly hyperaware of the fact that she and Draco were alone together… Mere inches apart… In her dark apartment with – Merlin, help her – When Harry Met Sally as the movie of the week. A tale about two friends who are undeniably attracted to each other, unmistakably perfect for each other, and too stubborn to give the relationship a try was NOT what Hermione needed right now.

Her heart was racing, and she could almost feel the magic between them crackling in the air… Not the kind they created with their wands, but the kind sparked from pure chemistry between a man and a woman. Her face flushed fiercely, and she was at least thankful for the dark room in that respect. She chanced a sideways peak at Draco, and he had gone completely still – something she’d noticed he did when he was nervous or unsure. Could he feel it, too? She wondered frantically what this could mean. Sure, she had thoroughly enjoyed building the relationship they had. She was comfortable with him – talking to him, working with him, cooking with him, just sitting in silence with him – in a way she’d never experienced with someone else. She lived for the passionate discussions they got into and even their arguments were fulfilling in some strange way. It wasn’t about fighting, it was about understanding – battling to revert back to the same footing they always seemed to land on together. And sure, people had begun to talk just as Draco had playfully warned in the beginning. Friends, family, and even strangers had asked her if they were dating. She had always laughed this off outwardly, but deep down, she thrilled at the idea of it. He was undoubtedly something of a catch – educated, witty, playful, capable, absolutely gorgeous. Okay, so they had been flirting – quite a lot – but that was just part of his charm, right? That Malfoy swagger that used to intimidate her, but now, she truly admired it about him. He always carried himself with such poise even on the occasion he ran into those at the Ministry who didn’t think he deserved to be there.

She knew he had changed – her blood was no longer inferior. In her mind, he was redeemed. She knew he valued her friendship like she did his, but she didn’t think he could ever see her in a romantic way. He had always made fun of her teeth, her bushy hair. He’d called her a know-it-all swot. There was no way she could match his schooled confidence and pureblood etiquette.

Suddenly, Hermione felt overwhelmingly sad at the loss of something she didn’t know she wanted. She wished she could turn her brain off. The movie was dragging on, and she just wanted to jump out of her skin. She fidgeted around in her seat trying to find a way to be comfortable, knowing it was only a physical representation of her internal discomfort, which couldn’t be sated. No matter how she moved on her small settee, she couldn’t escape the heat of his body next to hers. On her third or fourth position attempt, she saw him slowly lifting his arm out of the corner of her eye. Surprised, she snapped her eyes to his face. He was raising the arm pinned between them, but she couldn’t tell if he was giving her space for her incessant flailing… or could he actually be moving to put it around her? They stared at each other for an immeasurable amount of time, and slowly, Draco draped it behind her shoulders. She was taken aback by how much she longed for his closeness and leaned into him slightly. They both let out a sigh, and she couldn’t hold back the grin that burst through. After a few minutes, she dared to rest her head on his shoulder, and he tightened his grip around her. Mercifully, her brain decided to take a well-deserved but often unobserved holiday, and she watched the movie in blissful peace not thinking about the implications of this new development.

Hermione woke with a start and snapped her head up. The last thing she remembered was Draco nuzzling the top of her head, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the moment. She looked down at him now, and he was rousing from her sudden movement. He smiled at her impishly, and she returned the gesture.

“Wow, it’s late…” she mumbled, tiredly. “I’m sorry I fell asleep on you…”

He stretched and sat up. He leaned over to her ear and whispered “I’m not.” His warm breath and soft words sent shivers down her spine. He chuckled and slowly, gently kissed her cheek. She closed her eyes again to savor the moment. His standing forced her to open them again.

“I should go,” he said simply. Hermione rose, too, and nodded mechanically. She followed him to her fireplace, and he turned to face her. Her put both hands on her upper arms, looked straight into her eyes, and whispered, “I enjoyed tonight.” He gazed at her for a few more seconds and then leaned down to kiss her forehead. Before she was ready, he stepped back into the fireplace and was gone. She dreamily wandered to her bedroom (surely, this was a dream, right?!) and fell into her bed.

The next time she woke up, she realized in a panic she was going to be late for work. She frantically flew around her flat getting ready, grabbed a muffin, and ran out the door. Just as she apparated into the Ministry, the events of the night before came crashing back to her, and she was terrified to go to her office. She all but ran to the bathroom to look over her frenzied appearance. Why didn’t she take more time to make sure she looked nice this morning? Her hair was wild; her robes were disheveled. Basically, she looked like Harry. Draco was always so well put together. How could he possibly have feelings for her looking like this? Did he have feelings for her? Was last night a mistake – was he just caught up in the moment? She thought she might explode from all the thoughts shooting around her brain. She did the best she could to calm herself down and tried to walk normally to their office.

Of course, Malfoy was already there. When she walked in, he looked up with a smirk and drawled, “Morning, Granger. Long night?”

She was sure she looked like a deer in the headlights. “Something like that,” she mumbled and plopped down in her chair. He looked amused but went back to his work. The rest of the day was mostly normal except for Hermione’s constant glancing at him from under her lashes. She was beginning to think she’d hallucinated the whole thing when he packed up to go for the night. Instead of leaving though, he sauntered over and perched on the corner of her desk. He smirked again at her wide-eyed expression.

“Granger, I would like to invite you to have dinner with me tomorrow night.” How did he always maintain that damned confident air about him?

Hermione’s Gryffindor courage waned, and she felt it safer to play dumb than to wear her heart on her sleeve. “Sure, that sounds fun. Who else do you want to invite?” she hedged.

At that, she actually saw his resolve waver. She felt a pang of guilt and kicked herself for her selfishness. Thankfully, Draco seemed determined to make his intentions known. “I actually hoped it would just be the two of us,” he said quietly.

She stood up to be eye level with him and put her hand on his. “Oh, that would be lovely. I would really like that,” she said as sincerely as she could. He brightened considerably, stood, and gave her a small bow. He kissed her hand, winked, and said, “See you at my flat at 7.”

After the door shut behind him, she indulged in a girlish squeal and quickly packed her things to go – she only had 24 hrs to find the perfect outfit AND tame her hair! She needed to get started right away.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next night, Hermione paced back and forth in front of her fireplace waiting for a reasonable time to leave for Draco’s. She checked her hair and make up for the 100th time. She pulled at her Muggle dress needlessly, and finally couldn’t wait any longer at 5 minutes to 7 pm. When she stepped out of his fireplace, he was waiting on her, wearing Muggle trousers and a snug knit sweater with a red rose in his hands. He stepped forward, kissed her cheek, and whispered “beautiful” into her ear. She blushed, and he chuckled. He presented her with the rose, and she thanked him, smiling shyly. He took her hand and led her to the table where quite a feast was laid out for them. She gasped at the sight.

“Draco! Did you make all this?” She looked up into his eyes as he turned to face her, and she realized what she’d called him. A lopsided smile graced his face, and he replied, “Yes, Hermione, I did.”

She looked back at the table (maybe to break the intensity of their stare), and said wryly, “You’ve been holding out on me…”

He chuckled again, “I had a great teacher…” He held her chair out for her, and she sat down.

The food was delicious, and though they were quieter than normal, she enjoyed simply being there with him like this.

They moved to take their tea and dessert out on the balcony. His flat had a gorgeous view of London at night. When they finished, he stood and led her to the rail to look out over the lights. After a few minutes, he turned to her and said, “Hermione…” She looked at him and smiled openly at his use of her given name. “I have some questions that MUST be answered,” he continued with a smirk, repeating the words she had said to him so many months ago. She laughed. “I think we should have the DTR,” he said with sudden intensity. He took her hand, and she sobered up.

“Hermione, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed having the opportunity to get to know you again, or maybe for the first time. Thank you for being so gracious as to put our considerable past behind us and for allowing me to prove myself to you. I think I’ve done that professionally and in our friendship,” he paused and ran his fingers nervously through his hair. She just stared at him with her mouth hanging open a little. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening. She didn’t dare interrupt.

He smiled at her again and shook his head. “Bloody Hell, Granger. I’ve never seen you so quiet.” She still didn’t say anything. He chuckled, “You’re not gonna make this easy on me, are you?” She just cocked her head to the side. He took a deep breath and trudged on.

“I like you, Hermione. Not because you’re the Brightest Witch of Our Age or a War Heroine. I like that you call me out on my shit. You challenge me. Your fire fills me up and annoys the hell out of me at times.” At this, she narrowed her eyes. He smirked hugely, and continued, “But there’s no one else I’d rather be around – fighting or not. I hope you’ll grant me an even bigger opportunity and consider me romantically as well. These last few months with you have been the best of my life. I would love the chance to capture your heart as well as your mind.”

Hermione took her other hand and placed it on his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into it. “Draco, you silly, infuriating, captivating man - my heart is already yours.”

His answering smile was the biggest she’d ever seen from him. He stepped forward and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. He brought their entwined fingers up to kiss them, and then slowly, he leaned towards her. He gently brushed his lips to hers, and then he leaned his head down, their foreheads pressed together. “Thank you,” he said with his eyes closed, “for forgiving me and for trusting me.” She raised on her tiptoes and caught his mouth with hers. She kissed him fiercely to convey how deeply she felt he deserved her heart. He let out a little moan, and she parted her lips in a smile. He took the opportunity to gently touch his tongue to hers, and she felt a twist in the pit of her stomach, an ache like she’d never experienced before. They snogged for what seemed like hours and were both breathless when they parted. She put her head on his chest, and he held her for a long time. “Want to watch a movie?” she murmured. He laughed out right at that and responded, “I didn’t think I’d survive the last one, but I’m willing to try it again.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


	4. Chapter 4

*~Chapter 4~*

“Your mother?!” Draco had just invited her to tea at the Manor with Narcissa, and Hermione couldn’t help but be a little intimidated by the Malfoy matriarch.

“Yes, my mother,” he sighed. “We’ve been dating for a few weeks now, and you are the most important people in my life. I want you to have the opportunity to reacquaint like we have. Besides, she wants to meet the girl I’ve been spending all my time with.” He paused for a few moments, and looked down at his hands. “Of course, I understand if your hesitation has more to do with visiting the Manor.” He looked up at her then, and she sucked in a shaky breath. Confronting the place of her torture again certainly didn’t help her fear of this meeting, but she had to admit that right now, she was being a little more shallow. She bit her lip and admitted, slightly embarrassed, “That does make the idea a little more daunting, but I’m more concerned that she won’t like me.” Draco did his stone still thing, his eyes wide, and then his face smoothed into a grin. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Granger.”

“Yes, I do! I’m meeting my boyfriend’s mum for the semi-first time, and if that isn’t bad enough…” she trailed off. She sighed, “We haven’t exactly always seen eye to eye in the past… What if she thinks I’m not good enough for her son?” Now, it was her turn to look down at her fidgeting hands.

Draco reached one long finger out and lifted her chin to look at him. “Hermione…You know it was always my father pushing the pureblood ideals. Mother, like I have, has been able to do some thinking on her own since he died, and she came to the same conclusion I did. What does blood status even matter?” Hermione looked dubious so he continued. “Besides, all she wants for her only son is to be happy. We’ve all fought hard and lost a lot in the last few years. That tends to straighten out your priorities.” He gazed deeply into her eyes for a moment and seemed to teeter on the edge of something before arriving at a determined look. “It’s obvious how happy you make me, and once she sees that, she’ll have no choice but to love you like I do…”

Hermione’s eyes grew to the size of saucers…How had she gone from anger and fear where Draco Malfoy was concerned to love in less than one year? She must have pondered this too long because she saw Draco withdraw a little and something like hurt started to cloud his handsome features.

She moved quickly to close the distance between them and press her lips to his. “I love you, too,” she whispered. She nuzzled her nose to his, their foreheads pressed together like she liked. She brought her hands up to hold the back of his neck while she angled her head slightly to look him straight in the eyes. “I’m honored you want me to meet your mother, and I look forward to standing there by your side.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Figuring out what to wear to meet Narcissa was a lot more difficult than her first real date with Draco. She wished fervently that Ginny was not too busy with her newborn son, James, but that was a lost cause. She’d have to do this on her own.

Outside of work, she was always more comfortable in her Muggle clothes, but that didn’t seem appropriate for a formal tea with a pureblood, reformed or otherwise. She bounced back and forth between dress robes in an emerald green or a dark plum. Would Narcissa see the green as a ploy to attract her Slytherin son? Would she think the plum a haughty color for a commoner such as herself? She finally decided on light blue and hoped there were no unintended implications with that portion of the color palette.

She was a giant ball of nerves and frizz (no thanks to two empty bottles of Sleakeasy hair potion in her bathroom) when Draco arrived at her flat to apparate to the manor with her. He could sense her unease and gave her the lopsided grin she liked. He crossed the room quickly, took her face in his hands, and said, “You look lovely, Hermione.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, and his lips brushed her cheek on the way, “And blue is my favorite color, by the way.” She shivered and smacked him playfully on the arm. “You’re going to have to stop doing that! It drives me crazy! Especially when I’m trying to get control of myself.” He simply laughed (looking very pleased with himself), took her hand, and they apparated to the garden in the back of the Manor.

The landscaping was gorgeous, and she took a moment to drink it all in. This was certainly a side of the Manor she’d never seen, and she genuinely appreciated Draco’s effort to show her a more beautiful side to his childhood home to help her replace some of the darker memories from her last trip.

She looked up to see Narcissa at the top of a small staircase leading to an elaborate outdoor sitting area. Her own robes were a royal blue which contrasted nicely with her blonde hair. She exuded such elegance that Hermione temporarily considered making a run for it, but she’d never get off the property alone. Damn wards.

Draco took her hand and led her up the stairs. Narcissa’s features were also softer than she’d ever seen them, and she realized the relief that both she and her son must feel to let go of all the animosity that surrounded them for years.

“Miss Granger, I’ve heard so much about you. Draco sings your praises most frequently, and I’m glad to finally meet you,” Narcissa began with a small but genuine smile.

“Mrs. Malfoy, please call me Hermione. Draco has such an obvious love and reverence for you. I’m excited to get to know you better as well.”

Narcissa’s smile brightened, and she glanced at Draco. She moved to stand at Hermione’s other side, gently taking her elbow and said, “Please, call me Cissy.”

The tea with Cissy went better than Hermione could have dreamed, and she found herself promising to come back soon for a tea with just the two of them. Cissy had teased she would show Hermione Draco’s baby book, much to the wizard’s dismay, and Hermione hoped she’d do just that!

When the couple got back to her flat, Hermione flopped down on the couch in exhaustion. Draco laid down next to her and let out a huge breath. She curled into his chest, and smiled to herself – for all his talk, she knew he was nervous, too. She kissed his neck and said, “I think that went well.”

“You were bloody brilliant, as always,” he replied simply. Then, suddenly, he turned to her with a wicked gleam in his eye and proclaimed, “Now, I get to meet your parents.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione’s parents were no strangers to her past with Draco either so the thought of bringing him home as her love interest now was almost as scary as visiting the Manor.

Her parents had been polite but confused when she’d phoned them to ask if she could invite him to Sunday brunch. After the war, it took several months to find her parents and restore their memories. The hardest part though was rekindling the relationship they once had. Her mum and dad loved her fiercely, but they were shocked and hurt at what she had done in the name of protecting them. The weekly brunches had helped a lot to repair their strained relationship. Hermione had told them that she was now working with her reformed childhood nemesis months ago, but she had conveniently left out the way the relationship had progressed recently.

She was again a ball of nerves and frizz (but her parents were used to her bushy hair) when Draco arrived at her flat. He was wearing Muggle clothes, and though she appreciated the gesture, no one should look so good in a pair of chinos.

This time, she wasn’t the only one who was outwardly nervous. They had talked at length the night before about all the horrible things he’d done at Hogwarts that she had relayed to her parents. It was not a fun trip down memory lane, but Draco seemed determined to know exactly what he was walking into. He smiled wryly at her when he found out she hadn’t told them anything past their working relationship. She tried to explain that she didn’t know there was anything romantic between them to tell until very recently, but her furious blush diminished the effectiveness of that argument.

He was a lot twitchier than normal, and his ears had their own redness when they arrived at her parents’ stylish brownstone. But as soon as the door opened, he straightened beside her and assumed his most confident, though polite, demeanor. If she hadn’t gotten to know him so well over the last year, she’d think he was perfectly comfortable. She gave a second’s thought to all the time he had appeared like such a snob at Hogwarts and wondered how much fear and anxiety he was actually covering up.

Hermione’s attention snapped back to the present as her dad and Draco seemed locked in an intense gaze, sizing each other up. Her mother appeared in the doorway, too, and Hermione remembered her manners. “Mum, Dad, this is Draco Malfoy. Draco, these are my parents, Dr.s Granger and Granger.” Graciously, her mother stepped forward, shaking Draco’s hand. “Please call me Jean,” she said. Draco nodded, “Jean – so nice to meet you.” Hermione’s dad hesitated just a moment and said sternly, “You can call me Dr. Granger.”

“Dad!” Hermione almost shouted, shocked, as Draco stepped forward, interrupting.

“Dr. Granger – I understand that you are not pleased with the things you’ve heard about me in the past. I am not either, and your daughter and I have been working on improving our relationship for the better part of a year since we became partners at the Ministry. I think you know that the wizarding world was embroiled in a horrible war for much of our formative years. Hermione and I found ourselves on opposing sides, but I have long since changed my mind from my previous ideals. Your daughter served no small role in that, always deserving my respect, even if I wouldn’t have admitted it at the time. I have worked hard to earn her trust, and I plan to do the same with you, sir.” At that, he extended his hand and added, “Thank you for having me today.”

Dr. Granger narrowed his eyes and studied Draco in no hurry. To his credit, Draco stared straight back and held his hand out as if he was sure Dr. Granger would eventually return the gesture. To Hermione’s immense relief, he finally did, and Jean immediately invited them in.

Though her Dad was mostly quiet except for a few pointed questions about Draco’s background, the rest of the morning went well. Her mum seemed intent on carrying the conversation and honestly trying to know Draco and the man he had become. Hermione was very grateful at least one of her parents was making an effort. She guessed she really couldn’t blame her dad though, and she knew he’d come around eventually. This was enough for the first time. She knew Draco wouldn’t be leaving her life any time soon so he’d have plenty of opportunities to woo her parents later.

Again, when they arrived back at her flat, they collapsed on the couch, exhausted. This time though, it was her turn to grin at him wickedly. “I’ve finally figured you out, Draco Malfoy,” she said poking his chest with her finger. He looked genuinely surprised, obviously unsure of what she meant. “You make the biggest show of confidence when you are the most afraid.”

Slowly, he smiled, but his ears looked a little pink. “Granger, are you insinuating that I was afraid of your parents, mere Muggles?”

“I’m not insinuating anything,” she replied with a sniff. “I’m saying it outright. And I think it’s pretty attractive that you wanted them to like you so much.” She kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Draco.”

He turned to face her fully. “I’ve never wanted anything more than you, Hermione,” he said as barely more than a whisper. And then she was snogging him more passionately than they ever had before.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few months later, when Draco went back to the Grangers’ house, Dr. Granger finally consented to Draco calling him by his first name after he gave Draco permission to marry his daughter. The older man still shook Draco’s hand awfully forcefully, but the wizard felt like fathers had a right to intimidate their daughter’s suitors.

It was actually May 2nd, the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, when Draco proposed to Hermione. He told her about how the long road of their past led them to this day. It had been hard fought, but he was thankful for the path that made them ready to be together. The winning of the war led to the winning of their hearts, and he saw no better way to celebrate the end of that horrible time with the beginning of this wonderful time, the rest of their lives, as husband and wife.

Many years later, as Hermione looked back on her life with Draco, she couldn’t have imagined it any other way.

*~THE END~*


End file.
